


First Dance

by propinquitous



Series: Map of the Falling Sky [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Dancing, Episode: s09e07 Bad Boys, Flashbacks, M/M, Schmoop, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propinquitous/pseuds/propinquitous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's small attempt to say thank you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Dance

Sam can’t say he thought much of it when Dean left. Sure, he missed him. He missed being ribbed and poked and the occasional wet willy, and he missed the assured presence. While Dad had been in and out, undependable and inconsistent, Dean was always there and whether it was Fruit Loops or Funyuns he felt full and his bed was never cold. But he was young and if he didn’t believe that Dad could find Dean, he didn’t doubt that Dean would find him.

Then spring dwindled and Sam still woke up at Bobby’s. It had been months. He hadn’t heard from Dean. There had been a few incidents, when the phone next to Bobby’s armchair had rung and Sam answered to no one. The unsteady breathing told him it was his brother, but he couldn’t be sure, and he was too scared to tell Bobby because what if Dean was dead? What if it was a ghost? Sam didn’t want to know and so he kept going, playing catch and reading the chapters his teacher assigned and trying not to worry too much about pre-algebra.

His birthday passed before Dad showed up. He rolled in, smooth over Bobby’s gravel driveway and Sam felt pangs of resentment. Life had been simple, his grades had been good and he had his own sheets. He had a routine: he took the bus home, walked the half mile to the salvage yard. Bobby made him a peanut butter and banana sandwich because he knew he would get cranky if he didn’t eat before tackling his homework. Bobby walked him through his order of operations, quizzed him on his spelling words. He had a bed time. He woke up at 6:30 not for a hunt, but because the bus stopped at 7:45 and he liked eggs for breakfast. But when Dad came, there was no question. He packed up his things, left his spelling bee ribbons tacked to the bedroom wall, and got in the car. John clapped his hand on Sam’s shoulder but Sam did not speak.

A day and a half later, they pulled up at the farm. Sam didn’t recognize the house and didn’t know why they were there in the middle of the night. As with Dean’s disappearance, he tried not to think too hard about it and besides, he was still focused on ache in his belly that his father’s sudden appearance had caused. When Dean appeared, though, came out of the front door with a duffel over his shoulder and misted eyes that Sam didn’t notice, the ache evaporated. Dean smiled as he slid into the back seat to hug his brother. He pulled him close and Sam didn’t see the man with the mustache who waved from the porch. Dean was solid and warm.

 

 

“I’m sorry you never got to go to a dance,” Sam said, voice much deeper now.

“What?” Dean looked ahead at the road.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to go to that dance,” Sam repeated as he shifted, pushing his palms down over his thighs. “I’m sorry you missed it because of me.” He was too big even for the front seat, now.

“It’s fine, Sammy,” Dean reached as he said it and patted Sam’s knee. He let his fingers lift slightly to hold Dean’s hand there. They drove like that for a few minutes, quiet, until Sam broke it again.

“Can we stop up there?” Sam pointed at a neon sign approaching them on the left. It said Don’s Depot in red block letters and there was an outline of a cowboy with bowlegs. Dean scoffed and squinted at the sign.

“You wanna stop at a honky tonk?”

“Yeah, I could use a beer,” Sam squeezed Dean’s fingers as he said it.

“All right,” Dean caved, braking a little hard to stop in time. He took a sharp turn into the parking lot.

As they walked in Sam sized up the clientele. It was mostly older men and women, greying and dressed in jeans. He relaxed as he realized that he was the tallest person in the room. They approached the bar and Dean ordered two cheap bottles, handling one to Sam as they settled into their seats. They sat facing outwards and Sam smiled at the couples that moved in surprisingly graceful square dances. He kept watching as they sat in companionable silence and he drained his beer. The music slowed. Sam elbowed Dean gently in the arm. He pulled his mouth off the bottle.

“Wanna dance?” Sam looked at this brother and gave a small smile.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Dean lifted his eyebrows toward the dance floor.

“I don’t think anybody’s gonna mess with us. Come on.” Sam pulled Dean by the arm, barely giving him enough time to set his beer on the bar.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Dean’s voice wavered as he spoke. “Not like these guys, anyway.” He held out his hand to gesture at the couples moving in slow circles.

“You don’t need to. It’s a slow song!” Sam’s voice grew a little high pitched, almost giddy. “Just put your hands around my neck and sway. Pretend you’re sixteen.” He felt drunk though he was nowhere near it. Dean glared at him from beneath his brows, but reached up to do as instructed. Sam’s hands settled just above his hips and he rocked gently from foot to foot. He smiled.

“Damn it,” Dean said without malice, and pulled himself closer so that Sam’s hands slipped to his back. “You don’t have to do this.” Sam could see a faint pink blush spreading over his cheeks.

“I know,” Sam said quietly. He rubbed his thumbs over the small of Dean’s back and smiled again when he felt him relax. What they were doing barely passed as dancing, but Sam could still feel Dean shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Dean looked back up at him and finally smiled.

“Thanks, Sammy.” Sam tilted his neck to press a small, closed kiss to Dean’s mouth. He felt warm, warm and real like he had the day they picked him up at the farm.

“You’re welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know about y'all, but I needed some schmoopy aftercare following that episode.


End file.
